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In one way or another, High Sun
Day is celebrated all across Hieron. After all, there is a day each
year on which the sun hangs in the sky, resplendent, for what feels
like an impossibly long time. After all, there is a day each year
on which the heat gets so strong, the weight of the summer becomes
so much, that a celebration must be thrown. On the perimeters of
encampments on the plains and forests, light dances brilliantly,
impossibly. The orcs have called up thousands of reflective
objects, shields, mirrored boxes, from their collections and
positioned them along the tops of the walls. From a distance, the
settlements appear ringed by flame. The sun does not reach the
dwarven cities, deep underground, but the stone feels warm to the
touch. They close the heavy doors and snuff out the light and in
the darkness hear the sound of the stone cooling. In Marielda,
there is a train. There is a train and a volcano and dancing in the
streets. A god beloved and feared, a populace, for once, at ease.
It is High Sun Day again.

This week on Marielda: The
Killing of the King-God Samothes By The Traitor Prince Maelgwyn Pt.
2